hold my hand to keep me steady
by smileyfacebabe
Summary: "What is it that makes someone like Orichimaru so different from the Third Hokage," she asked. The Leaf Village had fallen and all she had now was his company. Sakura stepped closer and jabbed her finger into his chest. Her nail dug into his skin, but the pain wasn't important. "What is it that makes Sasuke so different from you, Uchiha Itachi?" (ItaSaku one-shot AU)


Note from the amazing author (aka Butt Face Supreme): There is a slight possibility that you may read this and go, "wow, Itachi is acting kinda strange." You would not be wrong, maybe, if such a thing were to occur to you. If it does, though, please deal with it and move on, because I was hooked on the idea of a Leaf village that fell to Orichimaru and Sasuke while Itachi was distracted and then a devastated Sakura who fled with Itachi in tow. Not hooked enough to write a Real Story about it, but enough to make this drabble. I hope you all enjoy.

Dedication: To you, the reader. May your hair look hella fine today, may your shirt fit the way you like, and may you drinks taste perfect in whatever varying degrees of temperature you prefer them in.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but a body in desperate need of sleep, a headache bad enough to make an elephant cry, and a bad habit of procrastinating things I enjoy.

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Sakura finally stumbled to a halt just outside the Land of the Sea. They had been aiming for the Land of the Wind, to search for help from the Suna nin, but they had been cut off a few hours into their escape and had been forced to turn back. It had almost cost them their lives, but more than that it had cost them time. Late spring in the Land of the Sea meant storms, which meant it was going to be difficult to traverse the sea keeping them from the eastern lands.

Ninja would be upon them soon and the number of foes they had greatly outnumbered the number of possible allies. The numbers ran through his mind as he came to a quick halt, rapid fire, as his brain ran desperate and, admittedly, scared, stuck as it was in the operation mode that existed during life threatening situations. His heart pounded in his chest, sweat pooled in the dips of his collarbone and clung to his shoulder blades, sticking what was left of his shirt to his skin. His shirt was in shreds after the last round of kunai had torn at his skin and he pulled off the remains of the cloth, wiped it against his skin to collect the sweat. Sakura didn't seem to care what he did, standing steady and unflinching as he made the handsigns to summon a small raven. He passed the ruined shirt off to the raven, whispering instructions to take it as far from their location to lay a trail to make it look like they were sneaking back toward Suna. Once the bird was out of sight he turned toward the pink haired medic nin who stood panting and sweaty barely five feet from him, his mouth partially open to speak.

"Don't say it," she snapped. She didn't turn to face him, instead curling her fingers into fists at her sides as she stared at the tree in front of her. Soon the trees would give way to the smell of salt and the sight of clear blue sky. Soon the familiarity would leave and she would be alone, adrift in the world with no company but his own. He almost pitied her.

"Say what," he asked, ignoring the cruel part of him that said there was no time for discussion. He squashed that feeling and took a step toward her, being as none threatening as was possible. They were in no immediate danger and if he could give her anything, it would be this moment of peace, for her to do with as she would.

"Don't ask me if I am alright, if I would like to take a break. Don't imply I can't _handle this_. I can handle it, alright, I can handle it!"

In another life that probably would have brought about a round of raised eyebrows and skeptism, maybe even some sarcasm. Instead Itachi took a slow, deep breath to combat his racing heart while his mind still whirled a million miles a minute. His voice was even and quiet when he spoke.

"Shouting at a tree is not a quality often possessed by those who can 'handle it'."

She laughed, but the sound had no happiness within it. She turned slowly, hands still curled as if she was waiting for him to attack her, but her shoulders were slumped as if she was already defeated. He tipped his head to the side slightly, but when she did not argue back he sighed lengthily.

"You are one of the most renowned ninja in the world," he told her pointedly, having no time for her pity parties. "You were trained by one of the three great sanin. If I asked if you were okay it would be in reference to the friends you no doubt just lost in battle, not in reference to your ability to keep up."

She looked up, blinking a little bit as if startled. He smirked slightly at her reaction, feeling a small amount of self deprecating humor swell in his chest. He almost asked her if she was scared, scared that the inhuman murder renowned by her village was showing her more compassion and respect than some of her comrades had in the past, but he caught his tongue just in time. It wouldn't do to tease her and get her all riled up again. Both of their lives now rested in the palms of the other's hands and despite his brother's claims he did not enjoy inflicting pain. Then her face twisted and her eyes darkened once more.

"So what is it," she asked out of the blue. The sky was darkening as the sun set in the west, casting long shadows along the ground. The trees around them rustled with the faintest of breezes. He blinked, caught off guard, but she carried on, blunt and forceful as she paced nearer to him. "What is it that makes everyone so different?"

He hated to admit it, but he wasn't following her logic. "Excuse me," he asked carefully.

She laughed again, this time even more unhappily than the first. "What is it that makes someone like Orichimaru so different from Jiriya or Tsunade or the Third Hokage? What dictates that he should be cruel and terrible and wicked while the others are so good?" She paused and her voice cracked on the word _good_, as if she was choking. Caught up in her emotion she took the last step toward him until they were toe to toe and then stabbed her finger against his bare chest. Her eyes were like green fire, but the thing he noticed the most was how pale she looked and the purple bruises painted like smeared watercolor under her bloodshot eyes. She pursed her lips and then asked her final question, her nail digging into his skin.

"What makes Sasuke so different from you, Uchiha Itachi?"

He swallowed. If he had been the cruel man his brother thought him to be he would have scoffed, stepped forward and intimidated her until she learned her place, but he was tired. His foolish little brother had made his move without him noticing and he had acted too late to stop it. Regret was heavy on his mind already over the fall of Konoha and so he just sighed, slow and heavy, and leaned into the connection of her finger against his chest, despite the pain.

"I wish I could tell you why the world is filled with cruel people who seek to destroy and corrupt, but I cannot. The best I can do is offer you my best theory on the matter."

Sakura scowled at him. Women twice her age cowered in his presence and yet she stood there, glowering at him like he was a mere bug. He had seen her do the same back at the village, moments after he arrived, when the Leaf had already fallen to the Sound ninjas' attacks. She had stood tall and spat in Orichimaru's face, curled her fists so that she could hit him, and it had been the first time in a decade that his mind had stumbled to a complete and utter halt. Kisame would have teased him endlessly about the matter if he had known, mocked him about his taste in women being tiny and surprisingly pink, but Kisame was far behind him now. He had openly attempted to stop Orichimaru and Sasuke, breaking his cover, and with it his connection to the Akatsuki. He hadn't been able to help it when he rushed in, grabbed the girl's arm, and dragged her from the ruined village. She had fought for a while, howled at him like she was the one who possessed the nine tailed fox and not her teammate, but eventually the fight had drained from her. But it seemed her fight had returned. Itachi wished he could regret it, but the light in the woman's eyes was preferable indeed over the anguish and despair.

"Your opinion on the matter," she echoed. "Does it have something to do with what you shouted at Sasuke during the battle?"

After a short pause he nodded. He had tried to reveal the truth to Sasuke during his quick scuffle with him in the village, but it had been no use. His brother had not wished to hear of planned coups and secret missions so he had grabbed Sakura and run. But before he could get too far down the path that thought led to the tiny woman jabbed her finger against his chest again, her scowl darkening a notch. Strangely enough the action almost made him laugh.

"Yes," he said, answering verbally. "It does."

"Then tell me, oh great Uchiha prodigy, about your great and esteemed opinion."

Her tone was not pleasant and though he was sure he had heard worse he could not think of a single instance wherein someone had spoken to him in such a way. The urge to make a childish face at her rose within him and he almost squashed it down, but he didn't. He rolled his eyes just a bit, pushing back against her finger as he rocked forward into her space.

"You've spent too much time in the company of the nine tailed fox," he told her quietly. Before he could continue she flinched, the normal reaction people had to his presence, but it was not because of his proximity, it was because of his words. Her hand started to retract from his chest and drop down to her side, but before she could pull back completely Itachi caught her hand. They stood there in a moment that seemed to stretch on as he felt sorrow build within himself for her; the last time they had seen the nine tailed fox he had been bleeding and unconscious, draped across the Copy Nin's shoulder as both of them fled the ruins of the village. Both men could be dead at that moment and neither of them would know until they could reach Suna and seek the help of the Kazekage. Sakura stared at her hand in his and Itachi swallowed, the motion rougher and more difficult than he remembered it being in a long time.

"My theory is love," he said, just as out of the blue as her own question had been. Her head snapped up and he squeezed her fingers gently, fascinated by the human connection. He could feel her heart rate increase slightly as his fingers pressed against hers, but even more fascinating than that was the grit of dirt and sweat around the edges of her gloves and how it pressed against his skin. He wondered how long it had been since he had taken someone's hand in such a way. He also wondered, briefly, how long it had been since she had taken someone's hand in hers and if they still lived.

"Love," she repeated, soft and confused. "Your theory is love?"

"Yes," he nodded. "I believe the difference between those who can be saved and those who cannot is love."

She paused, most likely to absorb his theory completely. He watched as her mouth twitched slightly, the wariness in her expression lessening for a fraction of a second. When she met his eyes next she seemed like a changed woman, her eyes softer, her spine straighter. Even the bags under her eyes and the bloodshot veins around her iris seemed lessened somehow. She smiled at him crookedly, her own fingers curling more comfortably against his.

"It sounds kind of silly," she said slowly, "but if you're right I guess that we'll just have to use our combined love for Sasuke to save his dumb ass."

Something in Itachi brightened for the first time in years. He let his lips twitch to mimic her smile, even as his senses began to detect those who were chasing them. They were nearing closer, close enough where they would be able to sense them soon. They needed to move. But her moment wasn't finished yet.

"Don't forget Naruto," he reminded her. "If we add his love to ours Sasuke will be saved in no time."

Sakura's laugh, her happy one, was like a powerful genjutsu; it wrapped around him and built upon itself until his senses were scattered. As their pursuers close enough to hear he used the connection of their hands and pulled her forward, leaping to the trees once more so that they could evade detection. The pink haired medic nin followed him quietly, her fingers twisting within his so that their connection didn't break.

Itachi had to admit, it did sound kind of silly. But it also sounded like something the nine tailed fox might say, and he had witnessed what Naruto could do again and again over the years. Maybe his foolish younger brother wouldn't be saved with mere words, but it was a dream Itachi was willing to fight for. He hadn't had a dream worth fighting since he had first come up with the plan to die on his brother's sword. In relation to his last dream this dream was somehow even more dangerous.

The prospect almost made him laugh.


End file.
